Nightmares
by FlyAwayDreamCatcher
Summary: She still has nightmares.


**A.N. Right. This I wrote this just now nonstop, it took about an hour (I know! It's only around 1,000 words!). But I feel really proud and moved by this piece. I don't know what urged me to write it, but it start because of a HUGE urge. If was incredibly fun yet hard to write. Personally though, I was very moved when it was finished. I feel like somethings been flushed out and feel like I can write decently again. You know what this means?**

**I OVERCAME MY MEGA WRITERS-BLOCK! HUZZAH!**

**Sooooooo, this is a very serious piece. The first serious piece I've written in a while. As I've said, it has done so much in just an hour! The first ever piece I've done that has entirely flushed out a writers block. YES YES YES! I know, I know: I'm getting much too excited. Anyway, enjoy and for heavens sake, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!**

**FlyAway**

**P.S. School is re-starting tomorrow (AHHHHHH!) so I'm pretty grumpy! :( But it also means my updates will be slower :( :( ! BUUUTTTT next chapt of FfY IS in progress! Bear with me people!**

**Alright, commence reading!**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing! All rights, characters, etc belong to J K Rowling. BOLD bits direct 'extracts' from _Harry Potter and the Chamber of _****_Secrets_**

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**Nightmares**

You thought the nightmares would stop when he was vanquished. You thought the terrors that gripped you in your slumber would pass when he did.

They didn't.

You twist in the covers, your skin slick with sweat. The sheets are damp and knotted, strewn across your body every which way as you thrash in your bed. He looms in your peripheral vision, his face appearing and disappearing through the darkness of your dreams. That high, cold, cruel laugh echoes in your ears. He calls your name: taunting you. You shout your challenge, "I'm not afraid of you!" He merely cackles and mocks.

Then the diary is there, its pages flipping, as if searching for a specific place. The fluttering stops and ink blossoms on the parchment; like some invisible hand is marking the neat, cursive script onto the page.

**_'Dear Tom, I think I'm losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes and I don't know how they got there.'_**

But this time the words did not sink into the paper. They stay there, seeming to jump out of the little book and dance before your eyes. But the diary isn't done. Below the previous words, more writing flows onto the page in that tidy handwriting.

**_'Dear Tom, I can't remember what I did on the night of Hallowe'en, but a cat was attacked I've got paint all down my front.'_**

Again the entry does not disappear, but remains horribly bold: black ink on yellow-ish pages. Yet still more writing pours onto the parchment, seeming to come in torrents.

**_'Dear Tom, Percy keeps telling me I'm pale and I'm not myself. I think he suspects me.'_**

**_'...There was another attack today and I don't know where I was. Tom, what am I going to do? I think I'm going mad...'_**

**_'... I think I'm the one attacking everyone, Tom! ...'_**

You desperately grab the cover of the accursed book and slam it shut. One cover meets the other almost in slow motion, making a jaw-ratting _BOOM!_ when it does. Almost like a jail door crashing closed. It slides across the floor, slipping in water that was not there before.

You jump up. You are in a corridor, pools of water splashing beneath your feet. You slowly face the wall, dreading what you will see.

**THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.**

Your stomach drops and you clamp your hand over your mouth to stop the scream that is threatening to tear from your lips and the bile rising up your throat. Your eyes start to sting and your drop to the floor, curled in a fetal position, as you catch sight of the lifeless form dangling from the torch bracket. The laugh reverberates around you and you cover your ears, crying out. The world spins and you feel unseen fingers force your eyes open. You scramble back, disgusted by the idea that _he _might have touched you.

You realise that your surroundings have changed. You are in the same corridor, the crimson letters from the first message still shining on the wall. But the water is gone; as is the petrified cat. Suddenly, your body starts to move without you telling it too. You stand and walk toward the red writing. You try to scream, but you know no sound is coming from your mouth. "_No, no, no, no, no! Stop! STOP!" _You repeat in your head, over and over.

You see yourself, as if from far away, lift your wand and point it at your wrist. This is worse than when it happened. When it did, you weren't conscious; trapped in your own skin. You hear yourself mutter an incantation: you've never heard of it. You voice sounds distorted. Still your own, but not, somehow. Blood pours from the gash your possessed self inflicted. You feel it as clear as day, and silently scream in agony your warped body does not seem to feel.

You watch in horror as you dip your fingers into the river blood and lift them up to the wall. Your hand starts to write as if the scarlet liquid dripping from your fingertips is nothing more than paint. You carefully mark the words in a script that is not your own. The letters gleam out your 'farewell'.

**HER SKELETON WILL LIE IN THE CHAMBER FOREVER.**

The corridor starts to rotate but this time you stand firm. You refuse to fall to the ground.

The world stops turning and you find yourself in the Chamber. Panic wells up in you and you run to the centre of the room. This doesn't make sense. It should be you lying on the cold stone, unconscious as your life is slowly drained away. But you see no one. You call to him. Ask him what he's doing. The laugh replies and you whirl around; dread filling up every fibre of your being.

_He _lies there. Not him with cold laugh and hard eyes, but the one with the eyes like a pickled toad and enough love to fill the whole Chamber. You cry out in desperation. His raven hair is limp and wet, saturated with blood. His robes are stained red also, a Basilisk fang held loosely in his hand. You scream and run to him but his body morphs into James' , glasses shattered and sly grin no longer on his face. Then he becomes Albus. Head lolled to the side, reckless hair splayed around the top of his head. Suddenly he's Lily, almost clone of you. Red hair caked in dried blood and soft skin much to pale. Then she's your mother, father, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron, Hermione, Rose, Hugo, Teddy... All your family lies on the hard floor. All but you. You hear something thud onto the floor of the Chamber and turn defiantly to meet huge, yellow eyes. You scream again and the laugh resonates off the walls.

You feel yourself being shaken and your eyes snap open. You stare up into green. His eyes are filled with concern and pain. He calls your name, asking if you're alright. You curl into his side and sob, clutching his shirt. You whisper his name over and over as you sob, telling him that it happened again. He holds you until your tears dry out and runs his fingers your hair, murmuring that it'll be alright, that everyone's alright.

You thought the nightmares would stop when he died.

They didn't.

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**A.N. Sooooo...? Review? Yes I think so.**


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